Mother, which has set up in newly titivated Battersea Power Station, feels like a bit of a trek just to taste Copenhagen’s slant on sourdough pizza.

There are some things in Mother’s favour: it is in a cavernous glass-fronted arch, like a mini aircraft hangar. One could take large groups there to feast on its enormo-benches and sharing tables. In the summer it’s airy, opened-up and feels deeply European. Inside on an evening it’s nicely lit by candlelight, if your Botox is sliding. And it has an expensive sound system. I can attest to this as on a calm Tuesday evening the manager kept putting on Pink Floyd and turning it up really, really loud.